


A New Dawn, A New Day

by spoilmesweetie



Category: Holby City
Genre: Because we all need a bit of fluff, F/F, Fluff, and a bit of Bernie Wolfe's bum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoilmesweetie/pseuds/spoilmesweetie
Summary: Waking up in the on call room isn't exactly the best way to wake up, but add a sprinkling of one Serena Wendy Campbell and, like with most things, it will be made better.No real idea where exactly this fits in their timeline.  I only know the little plot bunny wouldn't stop hopping around in my brain until it was done.  In this fic, I like to imagine Leah never happened.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 9
Kudos: 81





	A New Dawn, A New Day

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in a good long while, and these two in even longer, so apologies in advance.

Serena jumped at the sound of her phone ringing. Placing her book down beside her, careful to keep her place, she began rummaging between the couch cushions to find it. Holding it aloft in success, she quickly turned the device around, smiling as she read Bernie’s name across the screen. “Evening, soldier.”

“’S good to hear your voice.”

Hearing the way the other woman’s words ran together, Serena glanced up at the clock on the mantlepiece. The blonde’s surgery must have run long. She had been so engrossed in her book she hadn’t even realised the time. “How’d surgery go?”

“She’s alive. But whether that will still be the case in the morning I don’t know,” sighed Bernie, slouching down in her chair. 

“That she’s alive now is all down to you, love,” said Serena with a sad smile. “You gave her a chance. It’s up to her to fight now.” There was a silence on the other end of the line. “Do you want to get a taxi, or I could come and collect you? Bring you home?”

“Bring me home,” repeated Bernie, her smile evident in her tone. “As nice as that sounds, I don’t think I’d even be awake when you got here.” She was questioning whether she even had the energy to get herself up from the chair. 

The brunette had already reasoned as much. “Get yourself in the shower and go crash in the on-call room.” As much as she wanted nothing more than to have the blonde safely curled up next to her, she knew the feeling of being bone tired that came from a busy day that ran into a long surgery. 

There was a grumble that descended into a yawn. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” said Serena quickly. “You’ve been in surgery for how many hours? It’s no wonder you’re exhausted. Now go. Shower before you fall asleep in your chair.”

“How did you know?”

“Your chair still squeaks,” chuckled the brunette. “How’s your back holding up?”

“It’s…been better,” admitted the blonde, stretching out as best she could. 

“Go into the bottom of my locker. You know the code. There’s a hot water bottle in there and some of that gel you said helped before. There might even be some chocolate if you’re lucky.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Nonsense,” said Serena. “I happen to think we’re a rather good match.” She looked up once again at the clock on the mantlepiece. “Now I want you to stand up before I say goodnight. I want to know you’re at least headed in the direction of the on-call room.”

Taking a deep breath, Bernie jammed her phone between her ear and her shoulder, bracing both hands on the arms of her chair before pushing herself up. The resulting groan was embarrassingly loud. 

“How about tomorrow night I give you a massage? See if I can’t ease that off?”

“Sweet talker,” smirked the blonde as she left their shared office, taking a final glance over the ward, and giving Fletch a tired wave as she headed off in the direction of a hot shower.

“I try,” grinned the brunette. “Remember, hot water bottle and gel in my locker.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” offered Bernie as she pushed her way into the locker room. “Okay, that’s me going for a shower.”

“Don’t fall asleep in it,” warned Serena. “And I’ll see you in the morning.”

“With coffee?”

“Shall I bring the moon and the stars too?” joked the brunette.

“Just yourself would do fine,” smiled Bernie. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” replied Serena. “Now go. Wash. Sleep.”

*

Serena quietly pushed the door to the on-call room open, shaking her head at the sight that greeted her. The duvet was haphazardly strewn across the bed, one long, lean leg and a good portion a rather pert rear on show. One arm was stretched above a halo of riotous blonde curls, the other lost under the duvet. Closing the door behind her, and flicking the lock almost as an afterthought, she set her bag down on the floor, and the coffees and pastries she had stopped off at Pulses for on the bedside table before perching on the edge of the bed, letting the fingers of one hand card through Bernie’s hair.

“Five more minutes,” came the sleepy mumble.

“Plenty time,” replied the brunette. She shifted, settling more comfortably on the bed. Smiling as Bernie rolled in her direction, her head coming to rest against her thigh and a tired hand sought out her own, she asked. “How’s your back?”

The reply was grumbled against her leg. 

Letting her fingers tease through mussed blonde curls once more, she smiled softly at the feeling of the soft hair beneath her fingers. The slight citrus scent confirmed that Bernie had indeed made it into the shower the night before and hadn’t simply collapsed into bed. Her eyes catching a glimpse of turquoise beneath the duvet, she allowed her curiosity to get the better of her, lifting the cover with her free hand. “Are you wearing my scrub top?”

“Smells like you.”

Serena shook her head, lifting the covers a bit more. As she had guessed from the long leg and arse cheek on show, Bernie only wore her briefs below. “I think we’re going to have to keep a spare pair of pyjamas in your locker if you’re going to crash here.”

Bernie frowned against the fabric of the other woman’s thigh. “But I like your scrub top.”

“At least one of us does,” chuckled Serena. “But I meant to keep your arse from being on show to all and sundry.”

This finally got the blonde to raise her head. “Hmm?”

Gesturing down the bed, Serena watched as her lover took in the tangled duvet and what it was and wasn’t covering. 

“Nothing to write home about. ‘sides,” she paused, her words interrupted by a wide yawned. “We’re all doctors and nurses. Nothing we haven’t seen before.” She had spent too long in the army to be precious about changing in front of colleagues, or someone coming across her half naked in a locker room. 

“To you, maybe,” said Serena. “But I happen to be rather attached to that rear of yours. And don’t consider it public property.”

A sly smile crept across Bernie’s face. “Are you saying you consider it yours?”

Reaching across to grab their coffees, Serena considered her answer. “I’d like to think I have more of a claim than most, as director of its fan club.” She waited until the blonde had wriggled her way into a sitting position, her head resting against the brunette’s shoulder, before handing across her coffee. 

“Director of the fan club, eh?”

“What can I say? It deserves some appreciation,” smirked Serena, turning to press a kiss to Bernie’s temple. 

Scrunching up her nose, the blonde let out a giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”

Taking the comment in the jest it was intended, Serena simply smiled and reached for the bag of pastries on the table.

“Breakfast in bed? Aren’t you worried about crumbs?”

“Not my bed,” smirked the brunette. “There are painkillers in my pocket if you need them.” She had tactfully chosen not to comment on the various grunts and groans from the blonde as she had pushed herself to sit up, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t heard them. 

“Thank you,” replied Bernie, a soft smile on her face. That Serena was so consistently thoughtful still surprised her. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the other woman cared about her. Loved her, even. No, it was more that she still found it difficult to accept that she might be worthy of that love and affection. They were silent for a few minutes, absorbed in their caffeine and pastries. “You didn’t need to come in early just for me.”

“I wanted to.” 

Turning her head, the blonde placed a gentle kiss against Serena’s lips. “Thank you.”

“Besides, we both know what you’re like without coffee and something in your stomach in the morning.” She softened as Bernie leant their foreheads together, nuzzling in. “And what I’m like when I don’t get my few minutes alone with you.”

Bernie’s smile widened as she pressed her lips against the brunette’s once more. Not that she was so open in saying it, but she much preferred the mornings when she woke up with Serena. Found she was more settled starting the day in the other woman’s presence. 

“I wanted to bring you home last night,” said Serena, pulling back so she could see the blonde’s face. “To my house.” She paused, taking a moment to clear her cup and the bag from her pastry. “It’s not home, unless you’re there. Not to me anyway.”

“S’rena,” whispered Bernie. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Depends,” replied the brunette quietly. “Would you say yes, if I asked?”

Quick to clear her own cup and the debris of her pastry, the blonde turned to the woman sitting next to her, currently wringing her hands. “Yes, Serena. I would say yes.”

A wide smile tugging at her lips, she turned to face Bernie. “You’d really want to move in? What about Jason? And your two?”

“As long as Jason is comfortable with it, it’s a yes from me,” grinned the blonde. “As for my two, they’re wondering we haven’t just moved in together already.”

“Jason may be of a similar mindset,” admitted Serena. “He says it would just be more practical, since you’re there most nights, or when you’re not there I tend to be at yours. And working in the same place…” She stopped, shaking her head. “But aside from all those _practical_ reasons, I’m asking because I want you there. I want you home.”

Cupping the brunette’s cheeks, Bernie couldn’t have stopped her grin spreading even wider if she tried. “I want to come home. To you. So yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes.” She was pleased when her kiss was returned with enthusiasm. She laughed into the kiss as one talented hand found purchase on her rear. “It’s yours, Campbell,” she murmured against the brunette’s lips. “I’m all yours.” 

Waking up in an on call room was never usually the best way to start a day, but Berenice Griselda Wolfe would argue that when one Serena Wendy Campbell was the one to wake you with caffeine, pastry, painkillers and an offer of coming _home_ , days didn’t start out much better. 


End file.
